


Happy Accidents

by Medie



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Accidental Marriage, Bottom Derek Hale, Community: trope_bingo, Gift Fic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-27
Updated: 2013-03-27
Packaged: 2017-12-06 15:44:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/737376
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Medie/pseuds/Medie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"We got married.  Nobody's dying, all our limbs are intact, and nobody's creepy relatives are skulking in the bushes. All things considered, this is pretty tame for us."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Happy Accidents

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Swing Set in December (swing_set13)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/swing_set13/gifts).



> written for swingsetindecember to cheer her up. She picked the 'accidental marriage' spot on my trope-bingo card and wanted Sterek. Here goes nothing!

"I feel cheated." 

Stiles was lying on the bed, bare feet up against the wall, holding his hand over his head. As Derek watched, he turned his hand this way and that with a small smile playing about his lips as he did. 

It was a little at odds with what he was saying, but that wasn't new. Vintage Stiles, really. Either way, Derek didn't care. He was enjoying the view. "Cheated?" 

"Yeah, cheated. Seriously, there were no flowers, no fancy suit, and no Scott-induced silly string ambush." Stiles moved his foot in a lazy arc, his skin rasping over the paint in a light hiss that brought Derek's gaze up. He watched the movement with interest, so interested in the sight of Stiles' bare toes that he almost missed it when Stiles added, "I didn't even get to wear a garter belt."

He tipped his head back to smirk at Derek. It took a second, but then Derek got it; swift, sudden, and so perfectly clear that he could almost feel the satin garter between his teeth. 

He let himself follow the image; practically able to feel Stiles' leg in his hands and beneath his lips as he slid the belt off—he coughed and tried, in vain, to think of something else. Anything that wasn't what would come after. 

He tried and he failed. He would have said miserably, but he couldn't. Not with the fantasy Stiles his brain was so helpfully conjuring up. That Stiles smirked like the real version had just moments before and Derek couldn't help grinning back.

"Exactly," Stiles agreed, rolling onto his stomach. His eyes were bright and the smile ear to ear and Derek wasn't prepared for the way it hit him like a punch. 

He wasn't used to this Stiles, one who trusted him enough to laugh with abandon, who let down his guard and showed Derek more of himself than he ever had before. Derek didn't know where, or when, this Stiles had decided to show up, but he wasn't going to question it. 

Stiles rested his head on his right hand while his left ran back and forth over the blankets, his eyes watching the way the morning sunlight glinted off the gold of the wedding band as it moved.

"Shouldn't you be freaking out about this?" Derek hated the sound of his voice when he spoke, but that didn't do a thing to stop him. He needed to know and he was still feeling just reckless enough that the words spilled out. 

He tuned into the the quick-step of Stiles' heart and relaxed with the sound of it. It was an old habit, one he'd long ago stopped fighting, that he indulged almost every chance he got. It felt good to listen to the rhythm of Stiles' heart and it felt better than that now. 

For his part, Stiles was still staring at the ring, holding his hand farther out and spreading his fingers. That didn't seem to be enough so he tipped his head to look at the ring, chuckling quietly. Derek didn't think it was a risk to assume that, whatever his feelings on his new husband, Stiles at least was enjoying the whole situation. 

Derek wished he felt comfortable enough to do the same. He didn't know what Stiles saw in him, if he saw the confusion and worry Derek was wrestling with, but when he looked at Derek, his expression changed.

"Sorry," he said, sitting up. "I just keep imagining if we'd done this properly." Stiles swung his legs over the side of the bed and got up. The hotel had sent up a complimentary breakfast for the 'newlyweds' and Stiles started picking through it. "You know, I think Scott would have made a pretty good ring bearer." He popped a grape in his mouth, smiling back at Derek. Stiles was tricky to read at times; open and easy to read most of the time, but for rare occasions when Derek wasn't sure what he was looking at.

This wasn't one of those times and Derek didn't quite know how to face the the warmth in Stiles' gaze as he looked back at him. Warmth, want, and something Derek had long ago given up as impossible for him. 

He focused on that look and the sound of Stiles' heart as it evened out, sure that his own heart was syncing into beat with it. Probably stupidly romantic, but he didn't care. 

Stiles threw him an apple and went back to picking. "Don't worry, though, Isaac could be co-ring bearer or something. Scott wouldn't mind."

Derek bit into the apple. Stiles was right, Scott wouldn't mind. Wiping at his mouth, he looked up at Stiles with a small grin. "Practice run for their own wedding?"

"Oh, hell yes," Stiles affirmed, grabbing an armload of food and sitting back on the bed. He spread out his treasures and then looked longingly at the coffee he'd forgotten.

Rolling his eyes, Derek got up to get him a cup. It was a mistake since the noises Stiles made taking his first sip bordered on completely, fucking _obscene_. He bit into the apple and chewed noisily, hoping (and failing) to drown it out.

It was just coffee for fuck's sake.

"You know, we should probably start a betting pool on those two," Stiles says, between slurps. "Like, seriously, I could probably retire on our earnings if we can con Jackson into the mix. Anyway, I probably should be freaking out about this, you're right. If this had happened a few years ago, I would have."

"But—" Derek nods. 

But a few years had passed and with them had come and gone a stupid amount of trauma.

"We got married. Nobody's dying, all our limbs are intact, and nobody's creepy relatives are skulking in the bushes. All things considered, this is pretty tame for us." 

Stiles was right, it _was_ pretty tame as far as things went for the pack, but that didn't change the feeling that it wasn't for Derek. It wasn't even close to tame. He looked down at his own ring, then back at Stiles. 

Stiles was staring at him, not even trying to hide his worry. "What about you?" he asked, as tentative as Derek felt. "Are _you_ freaking out?" 

He couldn't answer right away. He wanted to, he did, but the words just wouldn't come out and he knew how Stiles would take the silence. Something confirmed by the sound of Stiles' heart skipping into a faster pattern along with the faintest tinge of anxiety creeping into his scent. 

Sitting back on the chair, Derek rubbed at his neck and tried to ignore the way his cheeks were heating. "Okay, yes, I might be freaking out just a little." He made himself let out the smile. "Mostly not, though."

Stiles relaxed, smiled back even, and it was so slowly relaxed, repeating "Mostly not? I can work with that. Hell, one of us should probably be panicking. We're still going to have to explain this to my father and, trust me, Stilinskis? We do _not_ elope—though does it count on eloping if it involves arcane rituals and completely bizarre werewolf hooch?"

"I—have absolutely no idea. How much do you actually remember?" Derek gets up, needing the ritual of coffee making even if the caffeine was useless for him. "My memory's pretty much a blur." 

Everyone celebrating Danny's marriage, newly legal and sickeningly _perfect_ from Lydia's daughter as flower girl right up to a speech by Jackson that hadn't left a dry eye in the house. He remembered all of that pretty much everything else from the regular ceremony; held for Danny's relatives still unaware of the secret.

The second wedding, however, got a good deal muddier. Danny's husband was from a pack out east; there were rituals for that sort of thing. Ceremonies to cement a wolf's transfer of loyalties from one pack to another and those ceremonies were very similar to the more ancient rites of mating. Marriage. 

One of the pack had definitely spiked the punch with one of Deaton's concoctions (usually saved for ceremonial purposes) and the regular liquor had been flowing pretty free, but that hadn't been what had sealed it. Not really.

Derek closed his eyes and sighed. The memory of Stiles' mouth beneath his was a tangible thing, heady, and his pulse pounded in his ears, nearly drowning out the sound of Stiles speaking. 

"I sort of remember some of it? Enough to know why I'm not freaking out."

He had to look when he heard that. Stiles was staring at the floor with a determined expression, blushing fiercely. He was going to get this out no matter what and Derek forgot about the coffee and everything that wasn't the revelation that put that look on Stiles' face. 

Forgot everything but the way his own heart pounded in his ears. He wasn't afraid, he wasn't, but his body didn't seem to know that. His head felt like it was shrinking, pressure everywhere, and his knees didn't feel strong enough to hold him, but he couldn't make himself move. Everything was focused on staring at Stiles, at watching his face, and hoping like fuck to make it through the next few seconds

It shouldn't be so difficult to speak two simple words, but asking "Which is?" was a battle. 

"The thing I regret is not remembering what it feels like to marry you. I know how crazy that has to sound, we haven't even _dated_ , but it's true. I want this, Derek. I want _you_ and I may not remember the wedding, but I remember that part and—"

The rest of whatever Stiles would have said was lost in the thump of his mug hitting the floor, followed by crashing plates knocked aside by Derek launching himself forward. They ended up tangling together on the bed with Stiles laughing and both of them grabbing for whatever part of the other they could reach. 

It was a complete mess for a few moments, neither one sure where the other one was going to be, before they settled with Stiles atop Derek and Derek's ribs smarting from their introduction to Stiles' elbow.

Better or worse, right?

Derek almost laughed at the thought, but then Stiles was leaning down to kiss him and there wasn't any laughing about that. Stiles didn't rush this part, took his time in the kissing, learning everything Derek wanted to share with him. It was so careful and methodical that it didn't take a genius to realize what Stiles was doing.

They didn't remember much of the night before, the kissing and the wedding a blur, so this was their second chance at a first kiss and Stiles was determined to get it right. 

Still, despite the reverence, when Stiles lifted his head, there was a wicked glint in his eye. Derek settled back, resisting the temptation to put his hands behind his head as he listened to whatever proposition Stiles was going to throw at him. 

It was worth it. 

"So," Stiles began, fingers walking their way along Derek's collarbone, "Technically, we should probably think about dating and stuff first. I mean, we kind of skipped over that with the rush to the alter and everything."

Derek smothered a laugh and nodded solemnly. "Technically we should."

"But?" 

Stiles bit his lip as Derek took a moment to answer and, fuck, that wasn't fair. Unable to resist it, Derek rubbed his thumb along that lip. He traced the lush curve of it and found himself remembering all the things he's wanted to do that mouth over the years.

Yeah, like fuck, he was going to be patient about this.

"But," he said, opening his legs to let Stiles settle between them, "We are _technically_ on our honeymoon right now, so—" 

Stiles brightened up and kissed him hard. "So I should be fucking the hell out of you at this very moment?" 

_Fuck_. 

Derek was going to like married life.


End file.
